


Absolutely Exemplary Library Decorum

by archaeopt3ris



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Because Pages is dumb, Do you ever just pass out if you're angry enough?, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Oikawa does, Wholesome Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 22:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21417748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archaeopt3ris/pseuds/archaeopt3ris
Summary: It was Pages that finally broke him. That offensively inferior word processing product was just absolute garbage and was totally ruining his life. He was never going to be able to finish his resumé if he couldn't chaNGE THE MARGINS HOW DID APPLE EXPECT ALL OF HIS IMPRESSIVE ACCOMPLISHMENTS TO FIT ONTO A PAGE WITH ONE INCH MARGINS THAT’S JUST NOT ENOUGH ROOM, UGH!He sat calmly with his laptop for all of 0.5 seconds before he let out an ungodly screech, entirely composed of roiling anguish sourced from his internal tornado of absolute hatred for that awful company. Everyone in that library room, which was reserved for seniors working on capstones and theses and other endeavors similar in magnitude of importance, looked up at him with horror in their eyes. He’d violated the sanctity of the rule that complete silence must be maintained in that space during their last metaphorical ‘big push’ preceding their rebirth into the real world. But who even cared because Tooru would never be able to become a fully functioning adult withoUT A GOOD RESUMÉ, DOUBLE UGH!“Oikawa, you nitwit, what are you doing?” Rage-whispered Iwaizumi.Or, Oikawa really needs a nap and Iwaizumi is the secret to good sleep
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	Absolutely Exemplary Library Decorum

It was Pages that finally broke him. That offensively inferior word processing product was just absolute _garbage _and was totally ruining his life. He was never going to be able to finish his resumé if he couldn't chaNGE THE MARGINS HOW DID APPLE EXPECT ALL OF HIS IMPRESSIVE ACCOMPLISHMENTS TO FIT ONTO A PAGE WITH ONE INCH MARGINS THAT’S JUST NOT ENOUGH ROOM, UGH! 

He sat calmly with his laptop for all of 0.5 seconds before he let out an ungodly screech, entirely composed of roiling anguish sourced from his internal tornado of absolute hatred for that awful company. Everyone in that library room, which was reserved for seniors working on capstones and theses and other endeavors similar in magnitude of importance, looked up at him with horror in their eyes. He’d violated the sanctity of the rule that complete silence must be maintained in that space during their last metaphorical ‘big push’ preceding their rebirth into the real world. But who even cared because Tooru would never be able to become a fully functioning adult withoUT A GOOD RESUMÉ, DOUBLE UGH! 

“Oikawa, you nitwit, what are you doing?” Rage-whispered Iwaizumi. 

Tooru just continued to emit his infernally loud and terribly grating cry as he stared unseeingly at the harsh, white light of his Pages document. Iwaizumi had no choice but to drag him, quite literally kicking and screaming, out of the library.

When the frigid, midwinter air hit Tooru, he blanked out. Straight up he lost a solid four hours of consciousness, almost as if he’d been socked in the face really hard by his best friend (but he knew _exactly_ how much that hurt and his head didn't currently feel like it was about to fall off, so an Iwa-chancussion was ruled out). Apparently when one became upset enough, one’s brain just turned off. Or so went Tooru’s next best theory. 

Tooru groggily came to, lying next to his best friend, the both of them swaddled up comfortably in his bed. It turned out that Iwaizumi, when asked, had a perfect memory of what had transpired during the missing time. “Crappykawa, I had to carry you home because you passed out after informing me that Apple was actually a giant conspiracy to make you fail at life, which is extremely ironic because you did an internship with them last summer and they want to hire you for real now.”

Tooru bolted up immediately, straight out of his malaise. “Hajime, how could they wish me anything other than harm if they want me to send in my updated resumé but their own damned word processor literally can’t set a page up properly to fit the contents of a good one!!!!? Riddle me that! They want to drive me insane by dangling the oh-so-alluring carrot of employment and cushy living in front of me but not providing a reliable means of acquisition to facilitate my spontaneous combustion! What other purpose could the company possibly have when they seem so intent on causing my destruction?” 

“You absolutely narcissistic wingnut! You’ve finally lost your marbles. Please, you need to go to sleep before something really awful happens!” 

Tooru blinked slowly, pensively, lamentations forgotten. “Hajime, that wasn’t even a threat. In fact, you were begging me. And you didn't hit me.”

“I’m really worried about you, dumbass! You didn't even think to use LaTeX to make your resumé, and that’s practically your solution to everything. Even I, the _history_ major, know what it is by now because you chatter about it so much. Much less did visiting one of the library computers that has Word installed cross your mind.” 

“Fuck me, Hajime, I’m stupid now!” Tooru sobbed, lamentations remembered. 

“No, you need to sleep more than a couple hours per night! You just have to make it through our final semester alive and then you'll be a software engineer with lots of money and regard in the beep boop community!” (How did Iwaizumi still sound so fierce when he delivered that last sentence?!). 

“Beep boop community! That’s unforgivable, Hajime! And I don't sleep just a couple hours _every _night, I sleep much more on the weekends!”

“What the fuck else should I call it? You call it that! And that’s not healthy either!”

Tooru blanched at the expression on his best friend’s face. “Just kidding, that’s fine!” (It was not fine; in Tooru’s mind, only those who had done some sort of computer science should call it that, but the point was moot at this level of Iwaizumi ire.) “And you’re right, I should sleep more!” He waved his hands assuagingly. 

Iwaizumi nodded at him. 

“You aren't going to punch me?”

“Not right now.” Instead, Iwaizumi sat on the other edge of the bed, put his arms around Tooru, and tugged him back down into the tangle of covers. “Rest.”

“Iwa-chan cares about me enough to be the big spoo— ow!”

“I changed my mind,” said Iwaizumi after he let go of Tooru and started to shuck away the six different blanket layers. 

“No come back! Being a big spoon is manly and impressive, Iwa-chan!” Tooru pled.

Iwaizumi didn't say anything else as he laid back down and tucked Tooru into his chest. Tooru fell asleep in record time, which was still a solid twenty-five minutes because boi had some intense insomnia. 

~~~~~

Tooru felt content and warm. Snuggly and calm. How very pleasant; why weren’t all mornings so nice? Usually he felt like a sloth being hit over the head with a falling branch when he woke up: too slow to move out of the way of the imminent pain stemming from his own blunders (in this case, the branch was a metaphor for his sleep schedule). 

Oh, right, he had slept in Iwaizumi’s embrace. _That_ certainly didn't happen every night. Maybe it had been a common occurrence when they were in primary school, and middle school, and even high school, but no longer. Tooru sighed and repositioned his lanky arms around his friend, clinging to him like a large, suctiony octopus. Tooru couldn't help but rub his face against Iwaizumi’s chest and smile at the soporific and consistent beat of Iwaizumi’s heart as he drifted back into the land of gentle dreams until the inevitable, obtrusive ring of his alarm. 

The rest of the day was equally enjoyable. He and Iwaizumi got some breakfast, which happened to be pancakes (one of Tooru’s favorite foods) and then went their separate ways for classes. Tooru had decided that he maybe _should_ sleep more and that he’d maybe overreacted _just a little bit_ and that Apple probably wasn’t a giant conspiracy to ruin his life. He’d finish his resumé later with a different word processor, send it in, and hopefully get a job doing that sweet beep boop thang (see, here was proper use of the terminology). 

In the late afternoon, Tooru met back up with Iwaizumi at the library for some study time. 

“Iwa-chan was right... Sleeping for more than a couple hours is good for daily functionality...”

“Of course it is, Asskawa.” 

Tooru stuck his tongue out at his friend as he opened his laptop. He heard the chime of a new email notification, but… his screen was black. Weird. He restarted it, and it sang the ‘I’m turning on’ notes, but his screen remained matte, unlit. 

The squirm-inducing pressure of anxiety started to build up in the pit of Tooru’s stomach. Dolty idiot laptop. What was going on? He restarted it again, and it stayed black. He reset the RAM and the master control system, which also yielded no change in the screen. 

F U C K F U C K F U C K F U C K F U C K F U C K F U C K F U C K F U C K 

And then Tooru was back in his room, lying beneath his ridiculous mound of blankets and wrapped up in Iwaizumi’s strong arms. Huh, apparently he’d had a particularly horrifying nightmare about computers (judging by his clamminess and tremors). Tooru regretfully extracted himself from their warmth cocoon to make some tea and get ready for the day. 

As he started to boil some water, he admired the full moon through the kitchen window. Tooru found its presence so calming and encouraging, and he always enjoyed watching the moon as it parted the sea of stars with its ethereal glow. Tooru would follow it anywhere, like an ant following a pheromone trail, even if it was a ridiculous shape drawn by some imbecile with that kind of pen whose ink has a similar chemi— Wait, where was the stupid sun and its disgustingly felicitous radiance? Wasn't he supposed to be in the realm of the (non-solar) starless sky? 

Tooru raced back to the bedroom, pounced onto his peacefully slumbering friend, and shook him awake. “Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, why isn't the dummy awful bad icky sun burning up the horizon? Did I sleep through my classes? I knew sleeping was the wrong choice; I should have been worki—”

“I am going to be as dead as the wretched victims of Darla if you keep shaking me, asshole!” 

“Ah, sorry Iwa-chan!” Tooru relinquished his grip on Iwaizumi’s shoulders as though they were superheated with the same frustration that saturated Iwaizumi’s gaze.

“And you’re wrong. You lost it again in the library and I had to cart your delirious ass back here as you cried about Apple’s supposed retribution for you cursing out Pages yesterday. Then you passed out once you were back in your bed. It's been about three hours.”

“WHAT! THAT WAS REAL?” Shrieked Tooru. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WAS IT REAL? YOU GOT US BOTH BANNED FROM THAT LIBRARY FOR A WEEK!” 

“Hajime, I’m ruined! Apple is getting their wish!” He sobbed.

“Tooru, you’re spreading yourself too thin and using a convenient _delusion_ as a crutch! And you're dragging me down with you!” 

The tea kettle chose that moment to start wailing along with Tooru. 

The anger drained from Iwaizumi’s face as he listened to their tormented duet. “Tooru, it’s all fixable. You’re not ruined. You just need to relax.”

“Relax?! Hajime, e-everything is on my laptop! I probably won’t g-graduate without it! My thesis research is all on there! _What am I g-going to do?_”

“We will take it to the tech department tomorrow morning, and go from there.” Iwaizumi’s voice was oddly gentle. “And it’ll probably be fixed, but if not, all your data is saved on the lab computer. You told me that. It’ll be okay.” 

Tooru looked up, eyes puffy, but chest no longer heaving. “We, Hajime?” 

“Yes, ‘we,’ you idiot. I’m also banned from the library.” Iwaizumi’s tone was still peculiarly soft. 

Tooru stared at him. “Alright, _we _are figuring it out tomorrow.” 

“That’s what I said.”

Tooru leaned down and peered into Iwaizumi’s eyes from just a few inches away (and found that they only looked placid and sincere). Iwaizumi reached up and gently wiped away some rogue tears as they tracked down Tooru’s cheeks. Tooru stilled. 

But Iwaizumi said and did nothing more underneath him, so Tooru eventually rolled off of his best friend, laid back down, and stared wistfully at the ceiling. His angst only lasted until a few minutes later when Iwaizumi reached out and pulled him back up against his body. Tooru tentatively wrapped his own arm around Iwaizumi’s chest (and chose to make no cheeky remarks about cuddling this time. Look at him, the definition of restraint). When deft fingers started to gently card through Tooru’s hair, he snuggled his face into Iwaizumi’s neck and sighed contentedly against such blessedly soft skin. 

~~~~~

Watching the orange blaze of the sun illuminate the landscape wasn't so jarring when he woke up entangled with Iwaizumi. Getting ready for the day wasn't so arduous when tea was already steaming in a mug on the table as he stumbled into the kitchen, trying and failing to pull on his sweater with any modicum of grace. These circumstances were certainly ironic; Tooru had ardently sung the praises of single dorm rooms for the past couple of years, but here he was, the happiest he’d been in a while, with nothing aside from another person sleeping in his room to thank. Iwaizumi was siphoning offTooru’s manic energy and anxiety more effectively than all twenty of his lavender-scented candles lit at once, even mere hours after he had thought his world was crumbling around him. Pseudo-roommate life wasn't all that bad. In fact, Tooru desperately didn't want it to end. 

After they’d dropped off Tooru’s computer at the tech department and ascertained that it could, indeed, be fixed (no big deal, his graphics card had just ~exploded for no damned reason~ but everything else seemed to be in working order), Iwaizumi bought Tooru breakfast in a cozy café near campus. Naturally Tooru ordered the most extra-sounding latté on the menu and two servings of milk bread. Iwaizumi failed to even chide him once, simply looking on with a most constipated expression. 

Tooru talked unusually little for the duration of breakfast, lost in the recesses his mind. He pondered all of the times that Iwaizumi had taken care of him when they were kids. There was no one else in existence that Tooru trusted enough to reveal, in full, his particular brand of neuroticism that bubbled just beneath his typically charming and ‘relaxed’ exterior. How many times had Iwaizumi slept over and cuddled with Tooru after bad days? Iwaizumi had only really stopped doing so after high school (until the past two nights). How many times had he helped Tooru get out of his head, be it through verbal or physical means, when he started spiraling towards a major freak out? How many hugs had Iwaizumi administered after skinned knees and crying episodes and ugly breakups? 

Tooru thought about all the girls he’d dated and how little sadness he felt about all of his ended relationships. Sure, they were nice and fun, a solid distraction, but he never… loved them. Maybe he’d never felt the need to love them because he already had someone. His girlfriends often left him because they felt under-appreciated, and he usually told them that _volleyball _or _school _took up all of his free time, but there was another reason, another commitment, underlying it all… 

When else did Tooru feel so happy, so comfortable, so _himself_ outside of when he was with Iwaizumi? The answer was extremely rarely. He thought about all of his ‘smiles with no ulterior motive,’ as Iwaizumi called them. They really only happened around Iwaizumi or when he was playing volleyball (which was usually with Iwaizumi anyway) and sometimes when he talked about aliens. He thought about the past two nights, about the soft skin of Iwaizumi’s neck and his steady, grounding embrace and how miraculously quickly he could fall asleep in his arms. 

Tooru recalled the time that Iwaizumi had gotten absolutely blackout drunk during their sophomore year. They’d stumbled out of a party, and Iwaizumi had smirked, pinned Tooru to a wall along the street, and whispered that he had a surprise for Tooru. Then, of course, he had immediately passed out. Tooru had carried him, fireman style, back to his room and was the big spoon all night to make sure Iwaizumi didn't throw up and die. You see, Iwaizumi wasn't the only one who had ‘carted [someone’s] delirious ass all the way back to their room’ and then slept in their bed for protective purposes. Tooru had never asked Iwaizumi about that night; he had been too afraid to face what could have happened, and Iwaizumi never had volunteered what that surprise was, if he remembered offering it at all. Now, Tooru was consumed by the memory of the way his heart had almost beaten out his chest when Iwaizumi’s body had pressed his own into the cold stone.

“Iwa-chan?” Had he ever said that name so tentatively before?

Iwaizumi looked up from his breakfast. 

“Iwa-chan, I, uh, I need to tell you something.” He fidgeted nervously in his seat.

“Shittykawa, are you okay? Should I have brought you to health services?”

“No, no…” Tooru looked up from the table's surface into Iwaizumi’s concerned gaze. Fuck, feelings were _hard…_ But the profound serenity he’d felt that morning watching the sun rise while they were entirely entangled, the burst of happiness he had when Iwaizumi said ‘we,’ and the intensity of staring into Iwaizumi’s eyes from mere inches away reminded Tooru that they were also _good_. “You’ve been there for me for pretty much my whole life. I honestly don't know what I would do without you.” Tooru started to blush. “You’ve cared for me for so long and I… I care about you too. So much.” 

“Asskawa being sentimental… Did you pick up a head injury during the past couple days? I knew I should have brought you to health services.” Iwaizumi shook his head. 

“No! I’m trying to tell you something important!” Tooru huffed. 

“I know you care about me, idiot. You don’t need to tell me.” It was Iwaizumi’s turn to look down at the table.

“Hajime, Hajime, you don't understand.” Tooru smiled softly at him. “I am an idiot though; I pride myself on being a keen observer of the people around me, but I’ve been totally ignorant of myself… You’ve been right here, with me, for so long and I only just put it together.” Tooru ran a hand through his hair, pulling at his bangs. “No one makes me feel as warm and fuzzy and protected as you do. There’s no one I like cuddling with more than you, or whose heartbeat I want to listen to more than yours, or who makes me feel so light and fluttery when they look at me. There’s no one with whom I want to spend more time than you. For the longest time I thought that all was just a best friend thing, but it’s definitely not. I love you, Iwaizumi Hajime, so much more than as a friend.” 

Hajime stared at him, dumbstruck. “You… what?” 

“Do you know how much I wanted to kiss you last night?” Tooru offered.

“You wanted to kiss me?” Hajime looked utterly stupefied. Shit. 

“I’m sorry, Hajime. Please forget what I-”

“Tooru, no, wait. You’re serious?”

“I wouldn't lie about that, Hajime. But if keeping you as my friend means forgetting about my feelings, I can do it.” Even if it would hurt more than anything he’d ever done, more than tearing his ACL… 

“You _really_ have feelings for me?”

“I think the word I used was ‘love,’” Tooru mumbled to the table. Did Hajime really need to crush him so thoroughly? 

“Can we go for a walk?” Hajime sounded absolutely thrown. 

He gulped. “Sure, Hajime.” Fuck. Tooru fucked up big time, Hajime probably hated him now, why did he have to just blurt-

Tooru felt fingers lace into his right hand, which had been lying limp on top of the table. Oh. 

He knew these hands. He’d watched them catch bugs and hit volleyballs and scribble furiously across homework assignments for as long as he could remember. 

Hajime gently tugged Tooru up and didn't let go of his hand even when they started walking.

“Tooru, I’ve wanted to hold your hand for as long as I can remember,” said Hajime as he swung their arms and squeezed his fingers. 

Tooru’s eyes widened.

“I resigned myself to being your friend because you were dating someone new every other week, and whenever you put your head in my lap or slept in my bed it just felt like it didn't mean much to you…” He sighed. “And when college started, I decided to stop torturing myself. Excluding that time I blacked out freshman year and we slept in the same bed, I’ve tried my hardest to keep more physical distance between us.” Hajime sighed again, gathering his thoughts. “But the past couple of days, I’ve just been watching you crumble, and blunt words and punches weren't getting through, so I tried the only other thing I could think of to calm you down, just like I used to do if you freaked out when we were kids.” 

Tooru wanted to tell Hajime that he’d never heard him string so many words together at once and that this was extremely heartwarming, but he was just an itty-bitty step away from uncontrollably weeping due to an excess of emotion, so he kept his mouth closed.

“I don't know that I’ve ever not loved you, if I’m being honest. Of course it's always been you.” 

Well, he really had been just the babiest step away from uncontrollably weeping, because Tooru short circuited a bit when he heard, concretely, that his feelings were reciprocated, and a single tear leaked over onto his cheek as the initial throe of an imminent display of aquatics.

However, out of the corner of his dangerously watering eye, Tooru registered their surroundings (a certain section of wall from long ago), and the incipient storm of emotion dissolved into something more singularly lustful. Praised be his more base instincts for averting a major, snot-filled breakdown. “Let me show you what happened that time you blacked out.”

He led Hajime up to the wall, disconnected their hands, and pushed him up against the cement. Their faces were only a hair’s breadth apart. “You almost kissed me like this, right here, but then you passed out and I lugged your preposterously meaty body all the way back to your room.” He looked down at their feet for a long moment, and something terribly insecure crept into his tone. Perhaps that urge to cry hadn't dissipated as much as he’d thought. “I was always too scared to ask about that night, both because it might make me confront a vulnerable piece of myself that I feared or, even worse, you’d tell me that you didn't care about me at all in any way and that you were just drunk and I was a just convenient friend of circumstance or easy possible hookup.” 

“I think you are many things, but convenient is not one of them. I’d choose you as my best friend and person to love regardless of us being neighbors or going to the same school.” Hajime flicked Tooru on the forehead, by no means with enough force for it to hurt, before he leaned in and kissed him, delicately and gently, just for a few moments. “I can’t believe I just did that,” Hajime said as the goofiest smile Tooru had ever seen shone on his face (Tooru was now smiling pretty stupidly too, to be fair). 

He leaned in again, and Tooru had never been so breathless because of a kiss. Tooru pulled away to offer that tidbit to Hajime because the observation felt so significant. “I’ve never felt so much from a kiss." He looked at Hajime's mouth. "I never really cared when other people inevitably dumped me for ignoring them because I've always had you. Honestly, I really only dated people because that’s what everyone seemed to expect me to do, and it was fun, sure, but never as worthwhile as spending time with you.”

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” Hajime said as he laughed giddily (wow, Tooru _never_ thought he would ever use that word to describe Hajime, but hey, Tooru just told someone that he loved them, so…). “But you’re my asshole.” 

~~~~~

They went to what Tooru dubbed the “café of feelings” almost every week of their final semester, even after they were allowed back into the library. Tooru always felt calm and centered just from the ambiance and memories, and Hajime usually bought him a snack (a sweet bonus). 

One day, long after Tooru’s computer was fixed and Tooru’s resumé was completed (without the help of Pages, thank you very much), Tooru received some very exhilarating emails. “I’m defecting to Google or Microsoft or, honestly, any of these random startups. How about them _apples, _Apple?” Tooru sang.

“Frogs and toads, Tooru, never speak out loud ever again. That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” Hajime stuffed a piece of milk bread into Tooru’s mouth for emphasis, even though he was actually smiling as widely as he ever had because Tooru looked so genuinely happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh yeah, Word that Pages is trash (heh).


End file.
